


Wandpoint Wedding

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to marry one she hates, Hermione must come to terms with the wizard’s past and make a decision about her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 

“What- what is this?” Hermione asked, going pale at the sight of a much hated blond wizard waiting within the Ministry official’s office. The rotund official waddled around Lucius Malfoy to stand behind his desk.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger,” said the sweating wizard as quickly as he could; “based on your questionnaires, you are quite well-suited for each other-”

 

Lucius shot to his feet, “She’s just a child!”

 

“You must be joking!” Hermione exclaimed, horrified.

 

“Despite the significant gap in your ages, you’re very well matched,” the round wizard hurried, glancing fearfully at the two scandalized people in his office.

 

“He’d murder me on our wedding night!” Hermione cried.

 

Lucius hissed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

The wizard shrugged and began shuffling the parchment piled on his desk into some sort of order. He found the correct form and plucked a quill from his inkpot and held them out.

 

“This is real,” Hermione breathed, staring at the official paperwork and quill, willing them to vanish. She glanced at Lucius and was mollified to see that he was equally shocked.

 

“Sign or surrender your wands,” the little wizard said tremulously.

 

“There must be a way to appeal this…” Hermione said. Her last light of hope died as the wizard vigorously shook his head. She glanced again at suspiciously mute Lucius; he was watching her through veiled eyes.

 

“Don’t you want to at least _try_ bribing the man..?” she demanded.

 

Lucius lifted a brow, “Certainly not.” He took the quill and scratched it quickly across the parchment.

 

“Do you realize that I went to school with his _son_?” she tried again.

 

The quill’s feather swayed under Hermione’s nose, grabbing her attention. She was completely trapped! In a daze, she took the quill and signed her name. The next thing she knew, she was sharing the lift with a former dark wizard and her future husband.

 

“We should discuss things - tomorrow, perhaps. I’ll send an owl,” Lucius said as the lift settled in the Atrium. Hermione was thoroughly bewildered – was he being considerate or just giving himself time to plan her grisly demise?

 

~*~

 

“You’re going to be Draco’s step-mummy!” Ginny chortled.

 

“This is obscene!” Hermione anguished, covering her face with her hands.

 

Realizing her friend needed more than tasteless humor, Ginny left the stove and patted Hermione’s shoulder.

 

“The Ministry’s trying to integrate the more stubborn old families with new blood. Pure-bloods will die out altogether if they don’t marry outside their own circle.”

 

“How dare they! Really, Gin! How dare they interfere in so personal a matter!” Hermione’s rant was muffled by her crossed arms.

 

“After six months, you’ll be eligible to annul…” Ginny reminded her.

 

When Hermione sat up again, she had a funny expression on her face.

 

“What is it, Hermione – besides the obvious?”

 

“Do you think Lucius would do anything to harm me..?” she asked quietly.

 

Before Ginny could reply, Hedwig swooped into the kitchen and deposited a package and scroll right in front of Hermione.

 

_Ms. Granger,_

_I will spare you the indignity of flowers and prose and be completely forthright as that is to my advantage as much as yours._

_I had no wish to marry you._

_However, because I’m partial to using a wand and living in Britain, not only do I want to marry you, I seek to make a success of our marriage._

_I have enclosed a book that will introduce the customs I intend to follow before our wedding. If you have questions, feel free to owl me at any time._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

 

Ginny read the letter after Hermione. “He sure knows how to charm a girl,” she muttered sarcastically.

 

“Wait a minute!” Ginny exclaimed. “Talk to Kingsley-”

 

Hermione was already shaking her head. “The first thing I did was send him an owl. He is unwilling to show leniency because if he does it for me, he’ll have to do it for everyone.”

 

“Well, at least you know Lucius isn’t going to murder you.”

 

Hermione shot Ginny a look and then unwrapped the book.

 

“‘Etiquette in Magical Families,’” Hermione read aloud. “Should be interesting if nothing else.”

 

As the brunette witch cracked the book and began reading, Ginny wondered if Lucius wasn’t a better match than she knew.

**Chapter 1: The Chaperone**

 

“You must be Hermione Granger,” said a wizened prune of a man. Except for bushy, white eyebrows, his face and head was oddly devoid of hair.

 

Hesitantly, Hermione entered the parlor. The man had kind eyes and after she saw that Lucius wasn’t around, she relaxed.

 

“Yes, I am,” she said. Was the ancient wizard another servant?

 

“I’m Walby Weatherstone, licensed chaperone,” he said, holding out an unsteady hand.

 

Hermione shook the man’s hand. She had read Lucius’ book and recalled that, occasionally, chaperones were employed to monitor meetings between a future husband and wife. She hadn’t expected their sham of an engagement to require one, though. Perhaps Lucius wanted her to feel safe around him… Or he wanted her guard down so that he could attack.

 

“Lucius! There you are! I thought you said you were marrying a Mudblood! This witch has manners!”

 

Hermione bristled at Weatherstone’s use of the word but Lucius preempted her objection.

 

“Walby, I’ll thank you not to use such language around Ms. Granger. Her parents are Muggles but she is quite civilized,” he said coolly.

 

The wrinkly wizard blinked at Lucius then turned his piercing gaze on Hermione. He looked her up and down and then settled into a chair in the corner.

 

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Granger,” Lucius said. He gestured at the overstuffed chair behind her and she sat, feeling a little unsteady. Apparently, Lucius meant to take his role as husband to Muggle-born Hermione Granger seriously. Was this polite man the same that supported and sought the eradication of Muggles only eighteen months ago?

 

Hermione snuck a reassuring glance at the chaperone. Weatherstone was reading in his corner chair but she was quite glad of his presence.

 

“What I have to discuss with you is private, Ms. Granger but I trust Wallby to practice discretion with regards to our arrangements,” Lucius said.

 

“Our arrangements..?” Hermione echoed. “Seeking annulment six months after the wedding?”

 

“Annulment?” Weatherstone sputtered.

 

As if neither of them had spoken, Lucius said, “We should conduct our marriage like a business contract.”

 

“Really, Lucius!” Weatherstone thundered. “Positively insensitive!”

 

“You are aware of neither Ms. Granger’s practicality nor our – dare I say – _colorful_ history. This is how to make a successful marriage between us.”

 

Hermione remained silent as the wizards bickered. Her mind was busy imagining Lucius Malfoy’s Evil Motives for being thoughtful of her.

 

“She’s a female, man. And if this is her only marriage, it should at least be at wandpoint – not a _business_ _transaction_!”

 

At Wandpoint..? Hermione almost giggled at the absurdity of being forced to get married because she was pregnant by Lucius but the thought of being pregnant by Lucius nearly choked her. She was startled to discover said wizard watching her as if he was thinking the same thoughts.

 

Hermione stood; “Alright, this is enough, really. I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself, thank you _both_ very much. Mr. Malfoy, you’re right that I am a practical person. I think it wise to have an understanding between us until we can have our marriage dissolved.”

 

Weatherstone harrumphed and pointedly hid behind his book.

 

“Ms. Granger – Hermione – annulment is not part of my proposal.”

 

And that did it.

 

All of the anger and resentment broiling in Hermione at being forced into marriage bubbled over. She leapt to her feet and put herself right under Lucius’ nose.

 

“But you didn’t propose,” she said coldly. “Some faceless idiot thought we’d make a good match based on that ridiculous questionnaire.”

 

“Do you want me to take a knee..?” Lucius asked casually, not in the least bit intimidated by Hermione’s anger.

 

“Not at all,” Hermione snapped. Inexplicably, she felt her face go hot. She peered at the man; he had some sort of plan.

 

“You don’t want to annul – do you?” she realized, flabbergasted. Her knees gave and she fell into her chair, once more.

 

“My sources said that our match was carefully planned _for failure_ ,” Lucius explained.

 

“Not to give us an easy way out of this ludicrous law, I take it?”

 

“Perhaps, for you.”

 

“Oh, I’ve got to hear _this_. What do you get out of being married to me?” Hermione deadpanned.

 

“Both of us will be able to laugh in the face of the Ministry. And I gain a well-respected and intelligent wife…”

 

Hermione frowned.

 

“By all means, speak your thoughts,” Lucius drawled.

 

“Don’t you want more out of marriage..?”

 

“More..?” Lucius prompted.

 

Hermione couldn’t believe she was going to delve into so personal a topic with Lucius Malfoy but she was intrigued by him.

 

“Don’t you want love?”

 

“Overrated,” he said but Hermione heard the change in his voice. He must have loved his wife.

 

As if sensing her perception, Lucius lifted his chin.

 

“A partner in a contract is much more reliable than a mere spouse… I can give you the world, Ms. Granger,” he said.

 

Thoroughly uncomfortable by Lucius’ offer, Hermione decided to end their meeting. She rose and Lucius led her to the front door – it was that simple. Weatherstone silently shadowed them. Hermione pulled on her cloak, trying to decide what to say. She did not want to mislead Lucius but she was thinking about his words.

 

“Are you available tomorrow evening?” Lucius asked.

 

Hermione wearily rubbed her temple; “Tomorrow’s Thursday… Yes, I am.”

 

It happened so naturally that Hermione didn’t realize Lucius had hold of her hand until she reached for her wand in preparation to Disapparate.

 

“I’m hosting a small dinner party for some friends and I would appreciate your company,” he said, lifting her hand to his mouth. His lips pressed briefly against her knuckles and Hermione felt a little ripple of delight shiver down her arm and flitter to the rest of her body.

 

She told herself it was the novelty that caused her reaction. Lucius released her. In a little daze, Hermione saw him note her reaction. She had to get out of there. Without a word, Hermione’s tingling hand no more than touched her wand and she was gone.

 

“And you said the way to seduce that girl was with the truth,” Walby chuckled, joining his friend in the foyer.

 

Lucius shot Walby a sly glance; he hadn’t expected the stalwart, young witch to be susceptible to physical charm.

 

“I frightened her,” he replied. It was exhilarating that his small gesture had impacted the girl so much she’d had to flee.  

 

Walby patted Lucius on the back, guiding him back to the study and a waiting bottle of scotch; “No, no. She’s not frightened of _you_ \- she’s frightened of her _reaction_ to you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Dinner Party**

 

As the House-elf spun to hurry away, it bounced off Hermione’s legs. Startled, Hermione asked if it was alright but it had disappeared down the corridor, leaving her at Lucius’ study door. She’d hoped it would announce her, saving her some embarrassment. Alas, Hermione was not to be spared.

 

She knocked and suppressed her unexpected elation at hearing Lucius’ voice. How ridiculous.

 

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said softly, closing the door behind her.

 

“Ms. Granger! Er, I’m afraid it’s a bit late to call on Walby…” he said, rising from behind his desk.

 

“I apologize for the late hour but I wanted to see you – alone,” she said, hovering uncertainly by the door.

 

“I was about to retire but you’re welcome to have a seat,” Lucius said. He began tidying the parchment scattered across his desk and tucking the ink pot and quills away.

 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t at least owl you about your dinner party tonight,” she began.

 

“Why didn’t you?” Lucius asked.

 

Hermione looked at the wizard standing behind his desk and she wondered if he felt protected in some way by the massive piece of furniture. He wasn’t happy – was he hurt that she hadn’t at least owled?

 

“I’m not accustomed to informing anyone of my whereabouts or answering for my actions. To send you an owl would have been akin to that,” she replied. Something dark crossed Lucius’ face but before he could say anything, she continued.

 

“However, I appreciate that you’ve been honest with me – I don’t know why I believe you but I do. And I should have at least had the courtesy to let you know I would not be coming.”

 

The set of Lucius’ shoulders relaxed. Clearly, he had been affected by her lack of communication.

 

“Would you like a drink, Hermione?”

 

“I’m not keeping you..?” she asked.

 

Lucius shook his head as he filled two tumblers, “Do sit.”

 

Hermione removed her cloak and accepted the glass patiently levitating until she took it. She settled on the leather sofa.

 

“Nibby didn’t take your cloak..?” Lucius asked.

 

“She hurried off – I’m sure she forgot,” Hermione replied quickly, anxious to spare the House-elf undue grief.

 

“Ah. Unless I’m greatly mistaken, she’s gone to fetch Walby despite the hour – we’re not supposed to be alone you know,” Lucius said, amused. He made himself comfortable in a large chair beside the glowing fireplace.

 

“Isn’t a chaperone a bit silly..?” Hermione asked.

 

“Is it?” Lucius replied. Something in his eyes recalled to Hermione the way the brush of his lips on her knuckles had made her feel.

 

“Perhaps not,” she muttered into her drink.

 

For a few silent moments, Lucius watched the embers crackle and Hermione, assisted by liquid courage, came to the other point of her visit.

 

“I have a rather substantial favor to ask of you,” Hermione said.

 

“A favor of me..?” Lucius echoed. “How inconvenient for you.”

 

Hermione thought he was teasing her – if he wasn’t, she didn’t want to know.

 

“My parents – they don’t know about this law…” she explained. “They wouldn’t understand…”

 

“And to them I shall not exist..?” he asked.

 

“No, no. Keeping you secret would be impossible,” Hermione chuckled. “But I have an idea – I wondered if when you meet them, we could play the part of being… In love..?”

 

Lucius lifted a brow at her.

 

“There’s no way all of my friends could keep their mouths shut about us and it would just be better to pretend we’re in love to explain the hasty wedding and I fear what Obliviating them several times might do,” Hermione suddenly sighed. Perhaps she should have just moved away.

 

“What, precisely, are you asking of me..?” Lucius asked carefully. 

 

“Whatever it is people in love do when meeting their future in-laws,” Hermione shrugged, checking her glass for more drink. Alas, it was empty.

 

“Such as ‘be polite..?’”

 

“Of course.”

 

“And use proper manners..?”

 

“Yes, yes,” Hermione said impatiently.

 

“And show affection to their intended..?”

 

Hermione blinked; she hadn’t thought of that. “I suppose, on occasion, physical affection is appropriate,” she said slowly.

 

“And what might this be worth to you..?”

 

“Pardon me?”

 

“What do I get if I agree?” Lucius asked as he refilled his tumbler.

 

Hermione wanted another glass too but she’d be damned if she’d ask him for anything now.

 

“Would you be willing to forgo dissolving our marriage..?” he asked, eyes glacial over the rim of his glass as he sipped.

 

“That’s not even close to an equivalent favor – it’s not a favor at all! You’re asking me to give up my freedom!”

 

“Did I say that..?”

 

“Not in so many words.”

 

Lucius shrugged, “I had to ask.”

 

“Mr. Malfoy-” Hermione began.

 

Lucius shook a finger at her, “Lucius.”

 

“Lucius, have you forgotten that I’m Muggle-born?”

 

“Ah, here it is,” Lucius sighed. He poured himself another glass of scotch.

 

“My parents are Muggles,” Hermione stated, annoyed. “How do you feel about being married to a Mudblood?”

 

“I am _intrigued_ at the prospect of being married to you.”

 

“Do you not wish the eradication of Muggles and Muggle-borns?” Hermione realized that her voice was going a bit shrill and glanced longingly at her empty glass. She took a deep breath and let it out slow. It was difficult to look at the attractive wizard and remember his role as a Death Eater and accept that she was being forced to marry him – temporarily or not.

 

“I never said that,” Lucius frowned, drinking deep and finishing – was it his third glass?

 

“Then why did you follow Voldemort? Why did you become a Death Eater?”

 

His expression went dark, “That’s quite a personal question, Hermione.”

 

If he was unwilling to discuss something as large as being a Death Eater with her, she would fulfill her six months as Lucius’ wife without setting foot in Malfoy Manor again. He was right though – it was a personal question and it wasn’t as if they were _friends_. Hermione’s lips curled wryly at the thought.

 

“I will agree to put on an act for your benefit on the condition that you _consider_ remaining married – you’ll have seven months to think about it,” Lucius said.

 

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly.

 

Lucius lifted a hand and haughtily beckoned to Hermione.

 

“What?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

 

“I’m curious about something – indulge me,” he purred.

 

Hermione remained where she was and Lucius lifted a brow; “I wish to touch your hand.” He held out his expectantly.

 

Her heart was racing before she even got close to him. It was surreal that she anticipated the prospect of touching the man; his hands were probably responsible for countless deaths. In spite of it, Hermione calmly set down her drink and moved to Lucius’ side. For a moment, her fingers hovered over his and then she placed her palm against his skin.  

 

The gentle wave of heat that rolled over Hermione enticed her to close her eyes and she didn’t even struggle. Her hand was enveloped by Lucius’ larger one; his fingers closed over hers. Pulled by her wrist, Hermione stepped closer. She sighed as a fingertip traced each of her fingers, delicately stroking between each one – it almost tickled. Then she felt wet warmth surround the tip of her thumb. Teeth and tongue gently explored her fingertips, creating an answering wetness between her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat as her pinky, up to the first knuckle, was sucked into Lucius’ mouth.

 

Without warning, Lucius pulled Hermione onto his lap. She didn’t even think about trying to stop him as his hands slid into her hair and guided her lips straight to his. Touching the wizard seemed to make the rest of the world disappear. His mouth was no exception. As Hermione kissed him, she let herself consider the prospect of building a future with him based on intimacy.

 

“That’s quite enough,” boomed the unmistakable voice of Walby Weatherstone.

 

Hermione found herself blinking up at Lucius from the cradle of his arms wondering if he had cast a spell on her. What else would explain how she’d gone from touching his hand to eating his face in but a few moments?

 

A smug expression crawled across Lucius’ features and Hermione finally decided to escape with what dignity she could. She climbed off of him and smoothed her robes self-consciously.

 

“That wasn’t fair,” Hermione chastened.

 

“What is?” he replied dryly.

 

“Touché,” she frowned. “But you should know that I am inexperienced.”

 

Carnal interest flared in his gaze; “How inexperienced?”

 

Hermione allowed her silence to speak for her.

 

Lucius understood. “You’ll need to be available at all times, Walby,” he said. Hermione’s body buzzed from their little encounter and the unmistakable desire in Lucius’ eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Potters & the Party**

 

Lucius and Weatherstone were easy to find at the Wandlight Pub – they occupied the largest table in the middle of the room.

 

Hermione ignored the flutter in her stomach as Lucius stood to press his lips to her cheek. The wizard’s nearness clouded her ability to think; she suspected that Lucius was perfectly aware of his affect on her and shot him a mock-severe look. When his hand left her hip, she felt a little bereft.

 

An outraged gasp called Hermione’s attention to the couple that had just entered the pub.

 

“I invited the Potters to join us,” Lucius said coolly.  

 

Hermione greeted Ginny and Harry paying no attention to their scandalized looks. She didn’t need to explain her physical relationship with Lucius to anyone. Of course, she wasn’t sure that she could even if she wanted to.

 

After Weatherstone had been introduced and everyone had a drink in their hand, Lucius finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

 

“Mrs. Potter, I asked you and your husband here because I know that you are friends of Hermione’s and I would like your assistance.”

 

Ginny’s smirk promised denial while Harry’s face was carefully blank.

 

“I intend to convince Hermione to remain married to me for the rest of my days.”

 

Hermione kept her tongue; this wasn’t news to her. Ginny shot her a startled glance to which she replied with a shrug.

 

“Why?” Harry asked.

 

“Divorce is not looked upon kindly. However, the Ministry wishes to embarrass me and I do not wish to be embarrassed,” Lucius replied.

 

Harry sat back in his chair, hiding his expression in one of the dark pub’s many shadows.

 

“Harry, tell me it’s not true,” Hermione said, pained.

 

“He’s not the Ministry’s spokesperson!” Ginny snapped.

 

Harry patted his wife’s back and sat up straight, “It’s alright, Gin. Everyone knows I advise the Minister.” After a breath, he continued. “When the Marriage Law deliberating took place, no wizard was discussed more than you, Mr. Malfoy.”

 

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione admonished.

 

“Back off, Hermione,” Ginny warned.

 

“It’s alright, Gin,” Harry snapped. “She’s got every right to be angry.”

 

“Yeah, Ginny. Marrying me is a punishment,” Hermione retorted.

 

The redheaded witch sighed and shook her head; “Sorry, Hermione – you’re not the first to be unhappy with Harry about this.”

 

“I don’t blame Harry,” Hermione replied softly. She didn’t trust herself to say more without giving away that she was holding back tears.

 

“But you’re not going to _stay_ married to Malfoy,” Ginny said, leveling a glare at Lucius.

 

“I’m almost angry enough to,” Hermione shrugged and polished off her whisky. She breathed into her sleeve for a moment, enjoying the alcohol burning down her throat.

 

“Would you like another?” Lucius asked, leaning towards her.

 

Hermione gleaned that he was pleased about something and realized that they were meeting with the Potters for a reason.

 

“You arranged this just so I could hear it – that the Ministry singled you out - from someone else – someone I trust - didn’t you?”

 

“Naturally,” Lucius said.

 

“You manipulative, old bigot!” Ginny hissed.

 

Several heads turned towards their table and Lucius fixed a frigid glare on Ginny; “That was unnecessary.”

 

Weatherstone harrumphed into his hand but his disapproving stare was on the table.

 

“What are we doing here?” Ginny demanded.

 

Lucius replied coldly, “I intend to seduce Hermione and I’d like your assistance.”

 

“Success removes the option of an annulment,” Harry added with a pointed (and quite redundant) glance at Hermione.

 

Hermione sipped her drink unconcernedly but chocked when Ginny leapt from her chair in a fury. Hermione half-expected to see curls of smoke trickle from the corners of her friend’s mouth.

 

“Hermione, I’m very sorry that the Ministry saddled you with Lucius Malfoy. I’m certain they know that there is no way you would agree to remain married after the required six months. I’ll Floo you later.”

 

“See you, Hermione,” Harry said and then hurried to catch up with his wife.

 

Hermione didn’t have to ask; all she did was look at Lucius.

 

“They know you’re not under the Imperius or a potion,” he explained airily.

 

Hermione sipped, “So what? That could have been discovered any time.” After a few moments of thought, she put it all together. “Silly, Hermione. Harry and Ginny got at least three messages today. One, I’m not under the Imperius. Two, you intend to seduce me and the other is that you have a chance in succeeding… Is that right?”

 

The blond wizard saluted Hermione with his glass in reply.

 

And there it was. Lucius had arranged the meeting for at least those purposes. His familiar greeting had been _orchestrated_.

 

“I see the Malfoy-Weasley enmity is as vicious as ever,” Walby chuckled.

 

“The engagement party ought to be delightful,” Lucius sneered.

 

“Engagement party?” Hermione asked in a high voice.

 

“The announcement was in the _Daily Prophe_ t this morning…”

 

Pale as a ghost, Hermione tossed back her drink; “I thought we’d keep things quiet.”

 

“Did you read the book I sent you..?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I intend to follow etiquette – with the wedding one month away, your mother thought the engagement party should be soon.”

 

“When the hell did you speak to my mother?” Hermione demanded. What was happening, here?

 

“I met your parents yesterday for tea and asked your father for your hand.”

 

Hermione blinked, completely aghast. **‘** What? **’**

 

“What did he say?” she asked, her initial shock becoming amusement. She wondered if her father had recognized Lucius’ last name from her brief mentions of Draco’s bullying.

 

“He was… He said that if I was whom you wanted then he couldn’t refuse.”

 

Hermione went silent. She didn’t like that Lucius was managing her life. She didn’t like that he’d met her parents without her present – he could have done anything to them. They were nice, simple folk and she’d never been completely honest with them about the dangers to Muggles in wizarding society.

 

Despite her attraction to the man and his newfound penchant to speak truths, Hermione didn’t feel that she could trust him. As if he knew her thoughts (and maybe he did – was he a Legilimens?), he explained himself.

 

“Isn’t that what a man in love does..? Ask his future father-in-law for his daughter’s hand..?”

 

Lucius was honoring their agreement. How could Hermione complain?

 

“I would appreciate it if, in the future, I accompany you on all meetings with my parents,” she said carefully.

 

“I understand perfectly,” Lucius practically growled, unable to look Hermione in the face.

 

The depth of Lucius’ anger was uncalled for and unreasonable. Hermione guessed it was due to something more than just her apparent mistrust.

 

~*~

 

“This is utterly mad,” Hermione muttered as she listened to the voices of friends and family gathering in the ballroom. Weatherstone stepped out of her path as she paced, wringing her hands.

 

“Best see to your bride,” the elderly wizard said, drawing Hermione’s attention to the opposite end of the corridor.

 

“Lucius! There you are! I expected you much earlier,” Hermione tried to reign in her nerves but she’d begun to fear that he wouldn’t show. He’d been rather upset at the Wandlight and she hadn’t spoken to him since.

 

“Fetch us a drink, would you Walby?”

 

Weatherstone hesitated and Lucius amended drolly, “We’re not going to ‘go at it’ outside a roomful of our guests.”

 

Walby shrugged and wandered off chuckling.

 

“No one is going to believe this, Lucius. We best just call it all off while we still have our dignities,” Hermione said.

 

“Do you want to explain the truth to your parents..?” Lucius asked.

 

“I – no,” Hermione exhaled.

 

“Do you want to move far enough away to be out of the Ministry’s reach..?”

 

Hermione hesitated for just a moment before shaking her head.

 

“Then come here,” Lucius said, holding out his hand.

 

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked breathily as he pulled her close, molding their bodies together.

 

“Giving you something else to think about,” he replied.

 

Rather than give her the kiss she was expecting, Lucius lifted her chin and turned her face to the side. He leaned over her and she felt his breath hot on her flesh. All worries about the Happily Betrothed Charade and the roomful of friends positively vanished from Hermione’s mind.

 

Lips pressed softly against Hermione’s throat as her fingers curled into the front of Lucius’ robes.

 

“You have lovely skin,” he said, his mouth just under her ear.

 

“Why?” was all that Hermione could manage to say.

 

“What?” Lucius asked, leaning back enough to see her face.

 

Hermione’s mind unclouded a little; “Why do this for me..?”

 

She caught sight of his sly grin before he bent back over her; “It isn’t just for you.” She closed her eyes as teeth nipped her neck and she felt a hand slide from her waist down to her thigh.

 

Then he kissed her. The world fell away. His mouth and tongue claimed her as thoroughly as the body pressing her into the wall. A draft tickled Hermione’s legs then she felt his hot hand between her thighs and gasped. Were her robes drawn up that high?

 

“Don’t move,” he hissed, holding her still. His pale eyes positively glowed.

 

“What? What are you-?” A sickle of fear sliced down her spine. For a moment, she thought Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eater, had returned.

 

“You feel my hand here,” he said, flexing his fingers.

 

“Yes,” she agreed, sounding choked.

 

Lucius slid his hand high enough to brush his fingers over her damp knickers. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deep, fighting the urge to beg for more.

 

“I want you to remember how that feels,” he caressed her intimately again. “Every time you look at me this evening, think about this moment. Think of me touching you.”

 

Two fingers gently probed Hermione through her knickers and she moaned, gripping Lucius’ robe as her knees buckled. Lucius’ mouth claimed hers once more and she rode his hand as it milked her.

 

“For Salazar’s sake, Lucius! Can’t you control yourself for five minutes?” a familiar voice thundered.

 

Hermione hastily slipped behind Lucius and pulled at her robes, making sure everything was nicely covered.

 

“Have all the guests arrived?” Lucius asked without missing a beat.

 

Weatherstone held a glass of champagne out to Hermione and she blushed as she took it.

 

“I believe so,” Weatherstone replied darkly.

 

Hermione realized that her nervousness was gone. Gratitude and a little wonder filled her as she glanced up at Lucius. Although Lucius was not an expressive person by any means, there was something smug about him as he offered Hermione his arm. Feeling a little smug herself, Hermione settled her hand on his arm and he led her into the ballroom.

 

The sea of chattering wizards and witches was overwhelming. Hermione felt a tremor of trepidation as she began to pick out familiar faces. Ginny and Harry… Ron and Lavender… Draco and what was his wife’s name again..? She’d be their step-mum soon. Her mum and dad were smiling and talking to – was that Andromeda? She thought she saw Viktor – had he been invited, too? Hermione drank deeply from her champagne flute.

 

“Remember what I said,” Lucius breathed into Hermione’s ear and she closed her eyes, fighting the pull of his voice. Almost against her will, Hermione was transported to five minutes ago and she filled with shivering want.

 

“Good evening witches and wizards!” Weatherstone extolled. The quiet that fell was thunderous.

 

“May I present the bride and bridegroom!”

 

Under the pressure of hundreds of eyes, Hermione smiled demurely. Lucius’ free hand covered hers where it gripped his arm. His fingertips stroked the sensitive flesh between her fingers causing Hermione’s body to once again remember his touch.

 

Lucius guided Hermione through the crowd, towards a shallow dais where they would sit. Traditionally, toasts would be given from the platform but they agreed there should be none. As wizards and witches stepped out of their path, Hermione felt a bit like royalty. Lucius’ teased her hand, continuously reminding her of their encounter while she nodded and waggled her fingers at friends. Hermione spotted Ron but he was glaring death at Lucius. She locked eyes with Draco for a moment and he winked. Hermione wondered what the hell that was about as she was whisked along.

 

With manners born from years of practice, Lucius directed Hermione up one step and onto the low stage with ease. Standing beside Lucius suddenly felt comfortable and she shared a glance with him before he addressed their friends.

 

“We would like to thank you for joining us this evening,” Lucius began. “As most of you know, Hermione and I were brought together under the most _unconventional_ ,” he paused dramatically to exchange a rueful look with Hermione; “and unromantic circumstances.”

 

Lucius lifted Hermione’s hand briefly to his lips. Amused by his theatrics, she allowed the illusion to envelop her. When Lucius spoke again, it was as if he were speaking only to her.

 

“We came to respect one another…”

 

She could almost believe they were recent victims of cupid.

 

“It’s not so surprising that our mutual admiration grew into something else…”

 

As if they’d practiced it a million times, they stepped close for a chaste but lingering kiss. Hermione was light-headed when Lucius released her. Polite applause erupted and Hermione blushed to think how many people had just witnessed her kissing a former Death Eater. She found that most of her friends were gaping (Ron had turned purple) but she ignored them all to play her part of newly besotted. Of course, the endless supply of champagne helped.

 

Hermione would have preferred their exchange of rings be private but she presented Lucius with a black ring box before all of the guests, amidst some catcalls.

 

Inside was a silver ring of complex knots. Entwined in the knots was a miniscule snake that slithered continuously until the owner had need of it. Hermione explained that the snake could be fed a small piece of parchment and told where to deliver it. The bit of ring had magic similar to Apparition but was undetectable. Hermione couldn’t help but grin – the ring had been a find in an antique shop and it screamed Lucius. She waited for the wizard’s reaction but he simply slipped it on and thanked her.

 

When Lucius gestured towards the doorway, Hermione expected some grossly extravagant parade.

 

An enormous cluster of glowing red and gold light flew into the room drawing awe from the crowd. It swooped low, making the guests gasp and it flew in complex circles, changing shape until finally forming that of a bird and diving towards the stage. Hermione was amused to discover the lights to be red and gold fairies. They carried a white ring box and set it gently in Hermione’s palm.

 

Hermione opened the box and looked questioningly up at Lucius - it was empty.

 

The unmistakable sound of hooves called Hermione’s attention. A unicorn had entered the ballroom. He stood at the far end for a moment, showing off the rich red and gold ribbons woven into his magnificent mane and tail. He reared, displaying his impressive size. Appreciative murmurs came from the guests.

 

The crowd instinctively parted, creating a path to the stage. With a vain toss of its head, the unicorn pranced straight for Hermione. The symbolism was blatant. She shot Lucius a look. He was making her virginal status public knowledge. But the sight of an elaborately decorated unicorn trotting at her was heady. When the majestic animal climbed onto the platform and knelt at Hermione’s feet, she plain forgot her annoyance.

 

Awestruck, Hermione gently petted the unicorn. It tilted its head and she noticed a gold ring slip down its horn. She caught in her palm. Duty done, the white, horse-like creature got to its feet and galloped out of the ballroom amidst unrestrained applause.

 

Lucius had won more than the crowd. Hermione blinked away tears – there was no artifice involved. Nestled in her hand was a gigantic, pink diamond ring encased in a silhouette of a gold lion. It was a bit garish in its opulence but it was thoughtful. Despite herself, she rather loved it.

 

“You’re supposed to put it on,” Walby whispered.

 

Hermione looked up at Lucius through her lashes, “Thank you.” He took the ring and carefully placed it on her finger.

 

“I’ve already commissioned earrings and a necklace to match. You’d better like them.”

 

A smile curled Hermione’s lips and she reminded herself that their act was for show. There was no way she could keep the ring. She then recalled the moment she shared with Lucius in the corridor… Would he go so far just to keep such a flimsy bargain..?

 

Throughout the night, guests lined up to greet Hermione as Lucius’ bride. She was introduced to wizards and witches she recognized from the _Prophet’s_ society pages. Greeting her own acquaintances was more difficult. They were bewildered and attempted to question her but she deftly sent them along with assertions that she and Lucius were a perfect match. Luna was the only one to compliment Hermione on the ring she’d found for Lucius.

 

“It’s like it was made for him,” she said dreamily.

 

When Draco and his wife approached, Hermione slipped her hand into Lucius.’

 

“Hello, new mummy,” Draco smirked.

 

“Call me that again and I’ll curse you,” Hermione promised.

 

“I almost feel sorry for you, Granger. Once my father decides he wants something, he’ll reach for it, no matter the cost,” he said as he kissed her cheek.

 

Was that a warning of some sort? Perhaps Draco was toying with her. It wasn’t as if they’d been anything remotely like friends. Regardless, Hermione didn’t know what to say. Draco spared her.

 

“This is my wife, Astoria,” he said.

 

“Welcome to the family,” Astoria said with a sardonic smile. Hermione couldn’t tell if the girl was being snide or not. Draco hurried her off and she guessed that she’d rather remain ignorant.

 

That Harry, Ginny, Ron and Lavender failed to join the line of well-wishers did not go unnoticed. When Hermione had a free moment, she spotted them at the opposite end of the room. It looked as though they were attempting to calm an irate Ron. She was equal parts flattered and irritated. Her friendship with Ron had suffered when he married Lavender – she owed him no explanation whether her marrying Lucius was a farce or not.

 

After shaking so many hands, bussing so many cheeks and accepting so many, many, many glasses of champagne, Hermione was ready to elope to escape the wedding reception.

 

Weatherstone took up post at the step to the stage, giving Lucius and Hermione a moment to catch their breaths.

 

“How are you?” Lucius asked quietly, refilling Hermione’s champagne flute to empty the bottle. He sat close to her, painting a picture of intimacy for the speculative crowd.

 

Between the champagne and Lucius attention, Hermione was a little giddy. She gave him a shrewd grin, “I’ll survive. You put on quite the performance, Lucius.”

 

“We have an agreement,” was his reply.

 

Why did his answer leave Hermione utterly crestfallen? She knew better than to fall victim to her own lie. She polished off her bubbly and glanced around for another.

 

“Hermione, I’d like a word with you,” a familiar voice barked.

 

Ron, in all of his angry glory, towered over dear Weatherstone. Hermione wasn’t at all prepared to deal with her old friend. Regardless, she’d gone through a lot of trouble to create her illusion and didn’t want it crashing down around her parents.

 

“It’s alright, Walby - please let him through,” she said. She placed herself between Lucius and Ron.

 

“Ronald, look at me,” she hissed. “Didn’t Ginny explain?”

 

The redheaded wizard acted as though he hadn’t even heard her.

 

“She’s too good for you, Malfoy.”

 

“Ron!” Hermione admonished, barely keeping her feet as Ron tried to get around her.

 

“You’ll never have her - she may have to marry you but she’ll never be yours!”

 

When Ron drew his wand, he pushed Hermione aside. For a moment, she lay stunned. Walby helped her sit up but she wasn’t ready to stand. There were a few spell light flashes and she heard Ron swear.

 

“That’s it! Ron, get out of here or I’ll hex off something you’ll miss,” Hermione trilled. She managed to stand in time to see the redhead shoot a nasty smirk at Lucius and leap off the platform.

 

“At least he didn’t cause a scene,” Ginny chuckled from nearby. Relieved laughter emanated from surrounding witches and wizards.

 

“Are you alright?” Lucius asked.

 

Hermione glanced after Ron; he’d left rather easily considering the fuss he made.

 

“I’m just fine,” she replied, brushing her robes.

 

Hermione waved off her parents – she was entirely too prickly to answer complicated questions.

 

“With friends like that,” Draco offered. Hermione gave him a weak smile.

 

“Here, Darling,” Lucius said, handing her his glass.

 

As Hermione leaned into Lucius and sipped his champagne, she finally noticed that he’d been injured. A little blood welled from a cut on his cheek. She lifted her hand to touch it thinking that a future wife would show concern – she wasn’t sure he even knew he’d been hit – when the world went completely black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:  The Great Manipulator**

 

“I make _generous_ contributions to this establishment -”

 

“And we appreciate every Knut, Mr. Malfoy. But that doesn’t mean I can give you a different answer.”

 

“Then I want another opinion,” Lucius said coldly.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, I have contacted every Healer I can think of. This poison hasn’t been seen in three centuries and there is no documentation on how long it takes the antidote to work.”

 

Hermione had awoken to the sound of Lucius badgering the Healer.

 

“Leave the poor wizard be, Lucius – oh my!” Hermione said, shocked by the sound of her abused voice. Her throat stung and she began coughing.

 

A soothing spell enclosed Hermione’s neck, easing her cough. She heard the Healer hollering in the corridor and feet scurrying towards her room. Though her vision was blurry and the room, dim, she was relieved that Lucius disappeared when Healers and assistants descended upon her to check her vital signs.

 

“I gather I was poisoned,” she said, hoping for more information as a young witch waved her wand over Hermione’s chest.

 

The witch just smiled and shrugged.

 

“It was quite peculiar,” said the Healer that had faced-off with Lucius. “You ingested a poison that was thought obsolete. No one I know has seen it and the antidote, while effective, uses unstable ingredients. It’s still running its course through you… I’d like you to stay for at least the night.”

 

Hermione nodded as a wave of nausea rippled through her.

 

One-by-one, the Healers and assistants got their turn to take whatever readings they needed and left.

 

“You seem to be recovering just fine. I’ll be leaving for the day but Healer Jones will be here all night. Call him if you need anything… You should try to sleep – I suggest you send your fiancé home.”

 

Hermione nodded. Lucius strolled in the moment the Healer left.

 

“Someone tried to kill me?” Hermione asked, dismayed. Her voice wasn’t quite normal, but her throat didn’t hurt.

 

“Someone tried to kill _me_ ,” he clarified. “You drank from my glass.”

 

Immediately, Hermione recalled the disturbance with Ron.

 

“He would never kill anyone,” she said.

 

“Unfortunately, I agree. The Weasley boy is incapable.”

 

Hermione slowly sat up. With the disturbance Ron created, anyone could have got to Lucius’ champagne flute.

 

“What happened?”

 

Lucius motioned a chair to Hermione’s bedside with his wand and sat down before replying.

 

“Weasley was arrested. The Potters are trying to sort it out.”

 

“Did you try to stop them from arresting Ron?” Hermione asked darkly.

 

Lucius’ expression was answer enough; “No, I didn’t. And you probably won’t hold that against me.”

 

“Oh, Sweet Merlin! My parents!”

 

“Have quite a different memory of the events, thanks to Mrs. Potter,” Lucius assured her.

 

“Oh,” Hermione replied. Then she sighed, “Thank goodness.” Even though she would have chosen to do the same, she was uneasy that someone other than herself had performed the memory charm.

 

After a few minutes of pensive silence, Lucius changed the subject.

 

“You may want to consider hiring a social assistant.”

 

“A what?” Hermione asked. Her mind had been in deep waters. She had just survived an attack on Lucius’ life. A former Death Eater – especially Lucius - would always be a tempting target.

 

“Whether you realize it or not, you will have great influence in society. Everyone will want Mrs. Malfoy at their table. Invitations will be endless and you might like to have someone organize your schedule and handle correspondence.”

 

Hermione couldn’t even begin to process that concept. She lay back down and closed her eyes.

 

“You didn’t need to stay with me, Lucius,” she muttered. “I’m sure you have more important things to be doing.”

 

The wizard was quiet for a long time; Hermione could feel him watching her.

 

“Appearances, you know,” he finally said.

 

“I’m more concerned with my parents’ opinions. Everyone expects us to annul as soon as we’re able,” she said slowly.

 

“I think we convinced the guests at the party.”

 

“Regardless, the Healer suggested I rest. The potions need to work through my system and I’m very tired.”

 

The chair creaked as Lucius stood. Hermione squinted through the darkness, watching him walk slowly towards the door. She fancied he was debating on what to say.

 

“Good night, Hermione,” he said.

 

“Good night,” she replied.

 

Naturally, the last thing Hermione could do was sleep. She had to sort out the mess that was her life. How had she allowed it to spin so quickly out of her control? She was the one that always knew exactly what was happening. Lucius Malfoy, it seemed, was a step ahead of her.

 

Was her Love Charade worth the result? She respected her parents but she’d lied to them about the world of magic for so long that she didn’t know how to tell them the truth.

 

Not to mention the price of asking Lucius Malfoy for a favor. Hermione had to suffer through his twisting an advantage out of every situation. And yet Hermione couldn’t help but like the man as she came to know him. She appreciated his intellect and he’d been forthright with her – with the exception of secretly introducing himself to her parents.

 

How in Merlin’s name did the man do it? He’d been the most notorious Death Eater under Voldemort’s reign and yet he’d gone to a Muggle home and had tea with a Muggle couple to ask for their Muggle-born, magic-using daughter’s hand in marriage. It was unthinkable!

 

Hermione wracked her brain but couldn’t come up with an advantage that justified Lucius’ actions. She needed to understand him. He’d refused to discuss his change of heart with her but he’d simply have to if he expected her to hold up her end of the bargain.

 

~*~

 

When Nibby left Hermione at Lucius’ study door, it was evident that she was intruding upon some disagreement between Lucius and Weatherstone; the tension in the air was palpable. However, they both rose at her arrival and the pressure promptly dissolved.

 

Hermione had done her best to hide her physical distress but from the concerned expressions of the wizards as she walked slowly into the study, she knew she had failed.  

 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she nodded, holding a scroll of parchment out to Lucius.

 

“This is all the information the hospital had about that poison. I assume you’re going to hunt down the would-be murderer and, for obvious reasons, I’d like to assist you,” she explained as she sat beside Lucius.

 

“Might I inquire about your health..?” Lucius asked archly, plucking the scroll form her fingers.

 

A bitter smile split Hermione’s face; “Part of the antidote to the poison uses unstable ingredients and they’ve affected my nerves. It can be quite painful – I’ve got an entire repertoire of anti-pain spells but the Healers recommend no more than three in twelve hours.”

 

“Should you be out of the hospital?” Lucius asked with a severe frown.

 

“I left on my own steam and I’m not about to spend an indefinite time lying uselessly in bed.”

 

Lucius scowl deepened, “I’ll arrange for a Poison Specialist for you.”

 

“No, thank you. The antidote will work itself out of my system eventually. In the meantime, I’d like investigate your attempted murder.”

 

“No, no. Too dangerous! It’s your husband’s place to seek revenge!”

 

Hermione shot Walby a startled look. Obviously, the wizard didn’t know her at all.

 

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Weatherstone, but I can take care of myself.”

 

“Ms. Granger will do as she likes, Walby. And I will assist in every way I am able,” Lucius replied dryly.

 

Hermione wondered what had happened between the wizards before she arrived. There was a degree of anger in them that she’d never seen before. Deciding it was probably none of her business, she dismissed it.

 

“Excellent. I’d like a copy of the guest list – I’m going to check names with the Ministry for Potions Masters and illegal activities. This is unlikely to be a first infraction.”

 

Lucius gave a quick flick with his wand and a few sheets of parchment sorted themselves from his desk and settled on Hermione’s lap.

 

“Thank you,” she muttered, blindly flipping through the list. Her mind was already on the next topic and she wasn’t looking forward to tackling it.

 

With some difficulty, Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a white ring box. She held it for a moment before offering it to Lucius.

 

“That was a gift,” he said.

 

“I can’t accept it,” she replied softly. It was harder to do than she’d thought it would be and Lucius was not going to make it easier. Her chest was tight with melancholy.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous – I had that made for you,” Lucius replied.

 

“You shouldn’t be so generous to me,” Hermione said.

 

“Don’t feel guilty accepting my gifts. I can well afford them.”

 

His teasing only fanned Hermione’s distress.

 

“Because you served an evil wizard by choice. Because you’ve tortured helpless people. Because you have committed murder. Because you’ve looked at me with more hate in your eyes than I’ve ever seen in a person…”

 

“Besides the incident at the World Cup, how much of that is first-hand experience..?” Lucius asked coldly and stood – as if he was too angry to sit.

 

After a few silent moments, Hermione snapped, “I’m sorry – wasn’t that a rhetorical question?”

 

Death Eater activities were well documented; it was unlikely that Lucius had served the Dark Lord without killing.

 

“Draco was always vehement about you and your intelligence. When I saw you with Harry Potter and the Weasleys, I knew you immediately. My annoyance was that your intellect was diminished by associating with them.”

 

Hermione wasn’t sure she believed that but Lucius was drawing her into the memory.

 

“You were a brave, little thing. You looked right back at me, blazing with indignation…”

 

Like that, Hermione recalled the excitement of being at the Quidditch World Cup – despite that she was not a Quidditch fan. When the Malfoys arrived, she got her first close look at Lucius. His frosty self-confidence appealed to her. When he’d caught her staring, it was as if he knew what she was thinking. Then his expression became something like disgust…

 

“And if I recall correctly, you blushed…”

 

“I was fourteen,” Hermione replied with a shrug.

 

“Are you saying that you find me attractive..?” Lucius asked.

 

“You know you’re an attractive man, Lucius,” Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes.

 

Lucius was quiet and Hermione wondered if she’d offended him but he stopped pacing and stood beside the fireplace. Only after she looked up at him did he speak.

 

“You are an exceptional witch and a beautiful,” his voice dropped meaningfully, “and most desirable woman.”

 

Lulled by his flattery, Hermione’s mind went fuzzy. She thanked him quietly and glanced away. Compliments made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t much practice receiving them.

 

Hadn’t she been trying to make a point of some sort..? Hermione couldn’t remember. Something about gifts..? Oh, for pity’s sake. Lucius had quite successfully distracted her.

 

“I think we’re finished,” Hermione said, an embarrassed flush on her cheeks as she stood and gathered the guest list.

 

“Have I offended you?” Lucius asked, placing himself between Hermione and the exit.

 

Hermione glared up into his steel-colored eyes, “I won’t consider marriage to you beyond what is required unless you explain exactly why you want to marry me, Muggle-born Hermione Granger.”

 

The wizard’s drawn brows said enough. He wasn’t going to explain anything. Before Lucius had the chance to think of some other clever way to detain her, she stepped around him and saw herself to the manor door. She shuffled around the contents of her hands to get to her wand and discovered that she still held the white ring box.

 

With a pang of finality, she set it on the entryway table and left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The Night Before & the Night After**

 

“Mum? Dad?” Hermione hollered as she pulled off her coat and hung it inside the hall closet.

 

Her parents’ house was eerily quiet. She was supposed to have supper with them that night - the night before the wedding.

 

“Mummy?” she called, listening for footsteps from the second story. “Dad?”

 

Hermione gave a little shriek as she turned a corner and almost walked right into Lucius Malfoy. He was the very last person she expected to see in her parents’ kitchen.

 

“My apologies for startling you, Hermione,” he said, taking a step back.

 

“Where are my parents?” she asked warily, peering at the fancy place settings on the table.

 

“I explained that I wanted the chance to speak with you alone – they were glad to help,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.

 

Since leaving Malfoy Mansion three weeks ago, Hermione had returned every gift and ignored every owl from Lucius. If she accepted his gifts or pretty words, she may as well be under the Imperius Curse. Only the white ring box was immovable. No matter what she did with it, the thing was on her bedside table the next morning. Hermione did not like being manipulated.

 

She merely looked at Lucius, waiting for his excuse.

 

“I have news you’ll want to hear,” he said with a promising smile.

 

In spite of herself, Hermione was flooded with amusement and something else – something like happiness to see him. She’d missed him.

 

“Alright, Lucius,” she said, sitting in the chair he held. The wizard’s fingertips grazed her shoulder and he lingered behind her a little longer than warranted. A soft ripple of desire chased after him when he finally took a seat across the table. He was immaculately groomed, as usual, but it was a little bizarre to see him framed by her childhood home.

 

“Our attempted poisoner has been caught,” Lucius said.

 

“Who was it?” Hermione asked with wide eyes. She’d had no luck tracking down the responsible party.

 

“I’m disappointed to say that it was Walby Weatherstone,” Lucius flicked his wand and the candles on the dining table flared to life.

 

“Walby? I thought he was your friend!” Hermione was aghast.

 

“As did I. Apparently, he felt that rather than tie myself to you, a witch of Muggle heritage, I ought to die.”

 

“He must be mad – wait! What have you done with him?” Hermione asked warily.

 

Lucius’ gaze was icy, “What do you _think_ I’ve done with him..?”

 

Hermione hesitated to reply and then decided that Lucius wouldn’t have done anything to harm the man and then admit his guilt.

 

“Why didn’t Weatherstone attempt to kill me, instead?” she asked.

 

Lucius took a sip of wine before answering; “It’s a matter of honor.”

 

“ _Honor_?” Hermione repeated, teeming with irony.

 

“Death by a friend’s hand has more honor than by the hand of the enemy,” Lucius said.

 

“What sort of nonsense is that?” Hermione chortled, equally amused and disgusted.

 

“To kill you would have acknowledged that you have some importance to him. Walby is one of those that feel Muggle-borns have no place in the wizarding world.”

 

“Like you,” Hermione said.

 

“Not exactly,” he said slowly.

 

Hermione let silence fall.

 

The Malfoy house-elf, Nibby, appeared and offered Hermione a drink. She thanked the creature when it filled her water goblet.

 

Nibby asked her master if he wanted anything. When Lucius shook his head, the house-elf made itself scarce.

 

“Would you be willing to move into the sitting room?” Hermione asked. She wasn’t comfortable being served by a house-elf in her parents’ home. Lucius followed her into the cozy sitting area and sat on the couch beside her.

 

Hermione caught Lucius eyeing her – perhaps he was considering a new way to manipulate her.

 

“I’ve decided that you are right,” he said.

 

Hermione could have laughed. Who wasn’t charmed by being told that they’re right about something? She grinned and arched a brow at him, waiting.

 

“Why should you trust me when I don’t explain myself fully..?”

 

“Why, indeed?” Hermione repeated, sipping her water.

 

“I’d appreciate it if what we discuss stays between us..?” he made the statement a question.

 

Hermione nodded, “If you wish.”

 

“I became a Death Eater to please my wife,” he said.

 

Merlin in knickers! The man was a romantic!

 

“I come from an old family but Narcissa was a Black - a different sort of old family. It was no secret that the Blacks felt the Dark Lord had the right idea…” Lucius paused, thoughtfully thumbing his wineglass.

 

“By the time I understood the extents the Dark Lord was willing to go to for his cause, it was too late. Leaving his service was not like leaving a membership club… I would have been killed along with my family and friends. He found me useful because of my wealth, so he entertained my ‘eccentricities,’ as he called it… I never committed murder.”

 

Hermione didn’t know what to say. Lucius went quiet; presumably to allow her time to process her thoughts.

 

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she finally said.

 

“My future wife deserves to understand,” he replied magnanimously.

 

“But I’m still confused,” Hermione shrugged. “Why do you want to marry _me_ , Lucius?”

 

“I suppose I pay for an intelligent wife by suffering her perception…”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes but she was in good humor. She’d have to watch out for his back-handed compliments.

 

“I am not accustomed to simply handing over potentially harmful information,” Lucius said, grinding his teeth.

 

Hermione reached over and touched his arm; “I wish you no harm, Lucius.”

 

He covered her hand with his and started intently back at her; “No, you don’t – do you?” In a softer voice, he continued; “In the beginning, it was exactly as I said: to turn the tables on the Ministry… But the longer I’m with you, the more I enjoy your company… I try to be what you want… And I spend all of my time harboring this unexpected hope that you might come to care for me…”

 

Merlin help her, it sounded like Lucius was in love with her.

 

She hadn’t anticipated that. She hadn’t anticipated any of the things Lucius had revealed.

 

Hermione slipped her hand from under Lucius’ and clasped it with her free one to hide its sudden tremor.

 

“We’ve still got six months,” Hermione said, trying to tell Lucius that she understood what it cost him to admit his feelings but that she wasn’t ready to give him an answer.

 

~*~

 

Hermione was exhausted but she wasn’t planning to sleep anytime soon. Still wearing her sumptuous, white dress, she stood in her new suite, a little terrified.

 

She ran her hand over her bedspread on an unfamiliar bed and glanced at the rows upon rows of familiar book bindings in illogical order (which she’d correct at the first convenient moment). It was as if she was a tree pulled up by its roots and transplanted. She was surrounded by her possessions but felt completely out of place. And she was stalling.

 

In the suite across the hall, her new husband was probably getting ready for bed.

 

All day, there had been a hollow look about Lucius that Hermione felt responsible for. Through the wedding and reception, through the dancing and toasts, the bridegroom put on a good show but it was as if he was dead inside. Hermione was pained to think she was the cause.

 

But she intended to change that.

 

When Lucius left her parents’ house the previous night, she hadn’t stopped thinking – not even to sleep. Her mind went in circles over the same arguments before she finally realized what her problem was: she was already in love with the man and, in a way, always had been. Understanding why he’d been a Death Eater made her arguments against being with him null. All that was left to do was tell him and she knew precisely how to do it.

 

Head high, Hermione crossed her room and the hall, dress swishing behind her.

 

Without knocking, she pushed open the door to Lucius’ rooms and was quickly swallowed by darkness.

 

“Lucius..?” she asked quietly, her courage quavering at the idea that he might be asleep.

 

Light flared into a blaze from the embers in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows over the wizard. He was reclining on a leather sofa before the fire but sat up and stowed his wand.

 

“Hermione? Is something wrong?” he asked, summoning a dressing robe.

 

Hermione shook her head and forced herself to walk around the sofa to sit beside him. That awful expression that he’d carried all day was fading already. Had he guessed why she was there? Well, why else would she choose to enter his room on their wedding night?

 

“You look lovely,” he said.

 

Hermione grinned and bit her bottom lip; her only finery was the dress. She was barefoot and she’d taken down her hair.

 

“Thank you,” she replied. As her eyes adjusted to the dark room, she caught sight of a massive four-poster bed beyond an open door. Her heart fluttered into her throat.

 

“You weren’t sleeping, were you?” she asked.

 

“Hermione.”

 

Her gaze returned to the wizard beside her.

 

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” he said.

 

Like that, Hermione placed herself in Lucius’ hands. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. He wasn’t going to make her ask.

 

Lucius’ fingers slid into her hair, pulling her face close to his.

 

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathed before capturing her lips and claiming her mouth for his own. Heart in her throat, Hermione wrapped her hands in his dressing robe’s lapels.

 

“But I want you too much to care,” Lucius continued in a hiss as he leaned Hermione back.

 

Hermione gave in to Lucius’ dominating mouth, allowing him full control over her. Her senses reeled at the feel of his weight; his demanding kiss almost distracted her from the fact that her knees were obscenely spread for him, cradling his body. Buzzing fire zipped through her limbs and her fingertips were numb. Her breath caught in her throat as his large hand slid up her leg, under her dress.

 

“Dress,” her growled against her neck. “Wedding dress,” he muttered, sitting up.

 

Before Hermione knew what was happening, Lucius had picked her up as if she weighed nothing and was carrying her.

 

“I’ll be damned if our wedding night takes place outside of a bed,” he said darkly, setting Hermione carefully on the mattress. He shucked his robe and lay down beside her.

 

In the dark room, Hermione could see enough to know that Lucius hadn’t been wearing anything under his dressing robe. He reached over and ran a finger slowly over Hermione’s bottom lip.

 

“I’m torn between claiming you before you change your mind and ensuring you enjoy yourself,” he said dryly.

 

Deciding to turn the tables on her husband, Hermione grabbed his hand; “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

She gave his finger a leisurely lick, drawing her tongue over the fine ridges of his fingerprint and then kissed the tip with pouted lips. She glanced at Lucius through her lashes and found that he’d closed his eyes. Assuming he liked what she was doing, she moved onto the next finger. Hermione continued gently sucking and nibbling each of them until she felt a draft. She was startled to find that her dress had disappeared.

 

Lucius’ hazy but intent gaze made Hermione grin. He responded by attacking her; butterflies burst through Hermione in every direction at the feel of hot skin pressed to hers. Hands held her arms while Lucius trailed open-mouthed kisses and nips down her neck. His fuzzy thighs held hers apart; she was quite thoroughly at his mercy. A stubbled cheek caressed her nipple and she gasped, arching towards the touch.

 

Hair feathered down Hermione’s ribs; she felt breath on the underside of her breast. Her nipple tightened and pulses of pleasure shivered to her core. Lucius’ mouth fixed on the pointed peak. He suckled gently at her and the pulling sensation sent waves of warm, bubbling honey through her veins. When a hand touched her intimately, rising slowly from the inside of her thigh to dip into her wet folds, she gave a little cry.

 

Hermione’s mind swam as Lucius played her body, plucking very deliberate strings. His lips tasted the flesh at her neck as his fingers delicately stroked her. Tiny gasping, mewing sounds came from her throat when a finger slipped inside her.

 

“This is going to hurt you,” he whispered. “Do you want me to cast something for pain?”

 

Hermione’s mouth curved into a grin and she shook her head; “Women have been losing their virginities since the beginning of time – I think I can handle it.”

 

When Lucius leaned up and pressed against her, she wondered if she was being an idiot. There was no way he would fit. But her body stretched and, centimeter by centimeter, she felt him push inside of her. Sweat break out over her body and, yes, there was pain.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Hermione realized her expression must have shown her hurt. She gave Lucius a reassuring nod and squeezed his shoulders.

 

“Don’t stop.”

 

Rather than seeking his own release, Lucius leaned in and captured her lips again. He kissed her until she felt dizzy and her mouth tingled. His hands traveled over her body in soothing, teasing patterns, reigniting the sweet, heavy bubbles in her veins. Only once she was hovering at the edge of a precipice did she feel the exquisite agony of Lucius withdraw from her. Almost immediately, he thrust back into her. The sensation was completely different than the first time he’d entered her. This feeling made her scalp tingle and her toes curl again and again.

 

And, suddenly, the bubbles inside of her were fizzing and then exploding. She blacked out, lost in bliss.

 

Hermione came back to herself and rolled over to cuddle with her husband.

 

“I’ve never asked if you want to have children,” Lucius said quietly, something tense in his voice.

 

“Only yours,” Hermione replied. She smiled feeling the shoulder under her cheek relax and Lucius kiss her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published: Apr 15, 2008


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